Obsessive Compulsive Disorder
by XxPorcelainKnightXx
Summary: There's a difference between "clean" and "obsessively trying to make it as such"- what was Levi's reason for being that way? [warning: titan vore]


He was first in the training corps. Just like any other soldier before he chose what his destiny towards humanity's fate would be. He had comrades, teammates- friends. He slept in the same cabin, ate from the same table, fought on the same training grounds. He grew close with them.  
He wasn't the type to fall into the ideal dream that slaying a titan was a wonderful and glorious thing. Humanity was on the brink of extinction because of them- that alone was enough to prove how fierce some they were. The scale models were only the smaller class- they were bigger than this. By simply watching someone stand next to one in comparison… It was astonishing that something could be that large. That something within the world had produced such large and overpowering monsters… He had seen models, diagrams, but numbers were nothing- _absolutely nothing_ compared to the real thing.

His teammates were interesting people. They got him to crack smiles, to laugh at their jokes, yell when he was angry, to go on daring endeavors past curfew. He was just like any other person his age- daring, reckless, emotional- it was a list of things. The only thing that set him apart- that set him within the highest rank of his group- was the fact that he took the training seriously. Whether it was "for his Majesty, the King", or "for order and peace", or even "for the glory of humanity", regardless of choice, he was serious about what he was doing.

There was then a time when he had to choose, like all the rest, what he was actually going to do with his training: He chose the Scouting Legion. His teammates weren't prepared for the actual thing. Even with the realization that the grandiose monsters were nothing compared to scales and book… Even he wasn't ready to witness them in person.  
It was a recon mission. They were simply to go out a few yards- see if they could secure anything or gain any information on the titans. Either were worthy objectives, however the first was the foremost. They put on their gear, got ready, saluted, and set out. They had someone with more experience, of course, to be their mission leader. They rode horses into the over grown, over-sized forest with little issue. They maneuvered through the air, latching onto whatever was available, avoided titans. But…

But that didn't stop the sole Abnormal type that was present. It went out of its way to catch his squad. It went out of its way to swallow the whole. It didn't bite them- it _swallowed_ them. Even if there was blood, even if smaller limbs were cut off or a squad member were caught in its teeth… It still swallowed them whole. The squad was _mortified_. They were brash. "THEY'RE ALIVE! IF WE CAN JUST CUT IT OPEN, WE CAN SAVE THEM!" And more fell. He couldn't stop shaking. They were just trying to return now- the mission had and was nothing but failure. So far, twenty-two out of the forty sent had been swallowed whole. Over half of the squad was gone, and more were joining their ranks. The ordinary titans were hunting them as well, the squad was falling apart and panicking, no orders were being listened to… Aside from Levi himself, no one was listening to the orders being given. And they were all dying… All of them.  
He watched as a titan tore one of his comrades in half, drinking everything that fell out of him. He watched as they screamed for help and listened as their cries suddenly stopped. He watched as the titan's throats bulged for just a single moment with the form of the people he had been friends with- had laughed with, talked with, shared space with, enjoyed the company of- and then they were gone. Swallowed in pieces or whole completely. And there wasn't a single thing to be done about it. If even five of them were to get away- even. Five. Just five… The squad leader would have been satisfied… But he would not be one of those five. With their command fallen, the squad screamed like animals, they officially ceased to function, everyone for him or herself.

Levi felt his gear wires get tugged at, and he fell.

Being eaten alive was something that not everyone or anyone got or even _wanted_ to experience. First, there's the mouth; First off, it was warm. There was a heat inside of a mouth that was shown on cold days. That was felt was breath touched something. It was the most optimal and most accessible orifice in the human body that lead to its inner warmth. With the teeth, there was the constant fear of being bitten. Would it bite off a limb? Crush your head? Would you hear the crunch over your own screaming, be it limb or head that was bitten? How much would it hurt? With the tongue, there was the constant movement. It wasn't a thought most be considered, but does your tongue rest on the roof of your mouth or bottom of it? When eating, it's the thing you use the most. You push your food to the side, suck on it, it assists in swallowing… And then there was the saliva. It was wet and had a certain smell about it. It slowly, almost gently, digested its food. It soaked it and aided in traveling down towards the stomach.  
Being swallowed was another story. It was like suffocating. You were confined in a space that expanded ever so slightly to accommodate you falling into it. It surrounded you, encased you, in a warm flesh. Yet, the impending feeling of your organs falling into your toes didn't leave, even as it expanded and you fell into an even warmer fluid that had a pungent smell to it.

Levi shook, and hyperventilated, glancing around. He was completely intact- as were some of his other comrades. Some had panicked and drowned in the fluid surrounding them. Some had bleed out and died, floating around him. Some were even still alive, shaking and crying against the walls. Another pair was trying to escape, clawing desperately at the inner walls of the stomach. But clearly, it was useless. They were all going to die… All of them.  
Levi was in such shock, that he stopped shaking. He stopped reacting. He had absolutely no idea what to do, yet alone if it was the proper reaction. He was going to die as many had; inside of a giant's stomach. He would never see the majority of his team again. He would never see the light of day. He would never slay his first real titan. He would never live to see twenty-five. He wouldn't live at all… He was going to die… And the thought hit him like a ton of bricks. He pulled out his weapons, trying his hardest to carve open the monster's belly. He yelled, he screamed, he panicked- and yet… Yet he was still going to die. He knew this, yet his will to live was something that was now raw, primal desperation.

…And suddenly, everything started to melt away. He gasped for air, shaking with his weapons in hand. His comrades around him fell out of the stomach as well, too many of them dead. They were all covered with the monster's fluids, and it was… It was **_disgusting_**. They were told they all needed to escape as soon as they possibly could, other titans still being present. If their gear was still intact, use it. If not, the horses were close by- just run or hold onto someone with maneuver gear. Levi didn't hear any of it. He was writing. The blood of his comrades, the sickening smell of the monster… It flooded his nose, permeated his skin… And some part of him felt that he'd never be able to get rid of it. If he were to let it sit on his skin like that, it was sure to- he was touched. Someone. _Touched. **Him**. _Levi basically writhed in his skin. They must have thought him mentally handicapped after being eaten whole.

He was taken back.

He avoided the shameful march back inside the gates- he used his mostly intact gear inside of the city and rashly headed straight for his quarters. He broke in through the window. He had violated a number of rules by doing that, but he couldn't **_stand _**it. He **_NEEDED _**to shower- **_NOW_**. The smell wouldn't leave his nose, their dying faces wouldn't leave his mind… He ran, throwing his clothes off of himself as he rushed for the shower, instantly turning the temperature to something of boiling degrees, not being bothered by the shards of ice water that hit him and melded into liquidated fire. He scrubbed his body with a cloth until his entire form was red, and not just from the water. He scrubbed until there was no more soap, the bottle being brand new. He scrubbed until the water was like ice, and even a while thereafter. When he got out, the smell still lingered in his nose. He felt like his skin had been flayed open, yet was still contaminated. It hurt to move- even as he roughly dried the water from himself and blew his nose and cleaned his ears until he saw blood, he still felt disgusting.

He looked over into his room, the floor covered in dripping bodily fluids of the monster. His face instantly showed distaste, disgusted, and his clear inner _writing_. He grabbed straight bleach, soap- any kind of cleaning product he could find, regardless of who was the owner- and poured it all into one large bucket. He scrubbed his floors until he took the finish off of them. He scrubbed until his hands formed blisters and felt as though they were bleeding fire, and until the bucket ran out of anything to scrub with. Then, he proceeded to boil water and poured it onto his floor.

Then he showered again.

* * *

Every day, he showered. Every day, he cleaned his room. He sacrificed sleep for this. It was completely _unacceptable _to be dirty. They dealt with _those _monsters, so there were bound to be germs somewhere from them… The inside of their mouth that lead to their stomachs… It was somewhere… And as he scrubbed his skin until it was bright red between actual scrubbing and scorching water, he swore he would never be swallowed by those monsters again.


End file.
